


In the Blackest of Rooms (we'll hold each other soon)

by estel_willow, mandsangelfox



Series: At Our Swiftest Speed [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AoU spoliers, Avengers: Age of Ultron, Gen, rampant denial of canon, twin feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/pseuds/estel_willow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandsangelfox/pseuds/mandsangelfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"...Wanda," Pietro croaked, accent thick and hand reaching out with somewhat numb fingers.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Blackest of Rooms (we'll hold each other soon)

Time was a figurative thing, it meant something different to each person and to some like Pietro it moved too slow. The only exception to this was when he was drugged up and sedated for his own good, to allow his body the time it needed to heal and bounce back, but that was quicker than anybody could have anticipated. The bullets had been removed and it was as though his body knew the foreign objects were gone because his red blood cell count had increased almost ten fold and the damage done was rapidly being obliterated to the point where it was possible he might not even carry any scars of his one real heroic act. He'd grumble about that later because what was the point of being a hero if you didn't have the scars to tell stories about later?

It was probably the first time since their parents' deaths that Pietro had slept soundly however it didn't last long, not as long as it should but then they'd miscalculated how much anaesthetic to give him so it was no wonder that they'd do the same thing again, especially as they'd been too preoccupied with keeping his sister calm as they'd reached into her brother's body with their tools and implements. Their work was good, so good that Pietro despite his recent brush with death was rousing, a flicker of eyelashes as his eyes strained to open and he attempted to swim above the heavy sensation which seemed to consume his very being. 

When he finally managed to open his eyes Pietro instantly regretted it as the light burned and he hissed in a small breath, turning his head until his blurry vision fell on a very familiar figure in a nearby chair that looked smaller than it had any right to look. He swallowed, throat dry, before he summoned his voice.

"...Wanda," Pietro croaked, accent thick and hand reaching out with somewhat numb fingers.

Wanda's rest had been almost as fitful as Pietro's. The world around her was loud and bright, noises permeating her mind and being in all of the ways she couldn't control or keep out and had, for a while, just been sitting with her hands over her ears and eyes squeezed shut as if that would quieten the maddening sounds ripping through her mind. Eventually she had managed to find an inner peace within herself knowing that Pietro would be awake soon and back with her where he should be and it allowed her to stem the tide, to quell the grief that wanted to take the very soul of her away. 

She was alerted to his rousing by the slight shifting of his body on the sheets and the tug on her mind that told her sleep was no longer holding him within its embrace. The hissed breath had Wanda's hand flicking out to kill the light instantly, plunging the room into darkness before that hand reached out and cold fingers curled around the outstretched ones that had been reaching for her. 

"Ssh," she told him quietly, "I am here." Her voice was soft and low, leaning forward to press her lips against the skin on the back of his hand. She felt the lump rising in her throat that was relief, so powerful that she felt tears burning in the back of her eyes. "It's okay."

The press of Wanda's skin and the touch of her rings was so familiar that Pietro took comfort in it, especially as she was alive and well. She'd survived the battle. His last thought before he'd fallen had been of her and what would become of her without him, but it would seem her strength had won out and she had found a way to live past that awful day and be here now. There were a lot of things he could say or focus on, but instead he chose to tighten the grip he had on her hands.

"You're cold," he murmured softly, concern filling his blue eyes which were a shade darker than they were normally.

Wanda pressed a kiss to his hand again, drawing the chair closer so that neither of them had to stretch to be near each other. As the chair came towards the bed, Wanda was able to rest her head on Pietro's hip, feeling the sharp curve of the bone underneath her cheek. She rested there for all of a few seconds before she was looking at him in the dark of the room, his eyes intense even in the half-light from the hallway. Their parents had always told him that his eyes were a gift, their mother told her once that she'd stolen gems for both of them, blue for Pietro and brown for Wanda. 

"I will be better now," she reassured him. "Don't worry about me, brother, I'm fine." She swallowed, hating that her voice was shaking. She wanted to be strong for him, to not cause him to have any need to worry for her that might impact his healing. "You are the one who was d-" No, she couldn't quite say it just yet. "It was a brave thing you did, to save the Hawk like that."

As Wanda rested her head on his hip Pietro's hand strayed into her hair to gently comb through and smooth out any tangles he found, the movement idle and slow. "Fine, sister?" He asked, brow furrowing as he took a moment to look at her. "I do not think that is a word that can be used for what happened." He passed a thumb over her cheek. "Brave? More like stupid." But in the moment he hadn't been thinking, he'd seen that the other man had been in danger and he'd reacted, especially as the Hawk was saving a child. 

Out of all the Avengers there were two that the twins had taken to, the one they called Captain America and Hawkeye, it made sense that Pietro would give his life for the Hawk.

Wanda's eyes closed at the soft touch to her hair, relaxing her head down again to minimise the stretching that her brother would have to do in order to offer her the comfort she sorely needed, though the movement was not just for her benefit: she knew Pietro needed to feel it as much as she did. Perhaps more-so. "It is a word that can be used to describe myself, I agree it does not suit the situation."

She wet her lower lip, squeezing his wrist gently before she settled, head still against his hip - away from the damage wrought by the bullets that tore through his body - so that he could easily reach her for the comfort they both needed, face turning into the brush against her cheek. "Do not make such a foolish move again, Pietro," she told him. "I-" She swallowed, pushing away that lump in her throat that made her eyes burn with tears. 

_"Sister..."_ Pietro began softly, a teasing lilt to the language which came as natural to them as breathing. _"Foolish moves are what I do best."_ It may not have been the best time for teasing, but Pietro liked to lift Wanda's mood however possible even if it meant poking fun at himself. It would either enflame the situation or lift the heavy weighted feeling in the room. Then he spied the tears and he realised that he may have made things worse so to counteract that he shifted in the bed to make room for Wanda so she could lay beside him.

He then lifted his arm and indicated with a tilt of his head that she was to join him.

It was good that Pietro had slipped into their mother tongue, the lilt of his words curling around her in a comforting way that she couldn't describe. _"You say that as if there is no consequence to your actions,"_ she told him, _"I am not joking, Pietro. You- You can't leave me."_

She dashed her hand across her eyes, trying to hide the tears before Pietro was them, but from the tilt of his head and lift of his arm she knew it was too late. She drew in a slow breath, even that simple movement from him lifting her spirits and loosening that knot of grief that had twisted her heart and soul since the moment she felt him die. 

_"You realise that you died?"_ she asked, hesitating even though he had lifted his arm because as much as she longed to join him- and that much was clear on her face- she was afraid of hurting him; he looked so frail and pale under the white sheets that just sucked any colour from him, dark rims under his eyes despite the sleep he had been having. 

Pietro noticed her hesitation and he merely gave her a particular look accompanied by a lift of his eyebrows which Wanda would be very familiar with and knew it would mean he was feeling impatient.

Wanda grimaced at the look she was shot and reached out for the door, magenta glow appearing around her hand as she pushed it shut fully. The blinds closed themselves as well to give the twins their privacy. She wet her lower lip and got to her feet, gently letting go of the hold she had on her brother's hand as she moved around the bed and sat on the edge of it, fingers brushing through his hair, the back of her hand moving along the curve of his face. 

Her lips pressed together, downturned in the corners as her eyes burned again, this time when she blinked a couple escaped. She honestly had thought she would never see him look at her again. It took her a few more moments before she lay herself down on the narrow bed - but they had slept in narrower before - beside him, gingerly pressed against his side. 

Pietro was pleased when Wanda finally joined him on the bed and as she settled he curled his arms around her, pulling her that much closer to his chest as one hand buried into her hair and the other rested on her upper arm, firm and strong despite the recovery he was currently going through. _"I know I died,"_ he informed her quietly, head turning until he was able to press a kiss to Wanda's temple. _"But I'm here now which is all that matters."_ And it was, Pietro had learned the hard way that dwelling on the past only brought regret, siding with Ultron being a large part as without them it was entirely possible he may not have been as successful as he was. Their parents wouldn't want them living in the past, they'd want them to live and make the most of their situation, good or bad. 

_"Not even death could keep me from you."_

_"It would not have happened if I had just let you stay with me to protect the machine,"_ Wanda breathed, head resting on Pietro's shoulder and eyes closing. He smelt different: sterile, like the cleaning products used in the room, the tang of bandages and medicine smeared over his skin catching in her nose. It was a reminder - as if she needed another one - that he wasn't well, that he was still injured and healing. Her hand rested on her own hip, refusing to curl it over his chest as much as she wanted to feel his heartbeat with her own hand. 

Reassurance that death couldn't keep them apart did little to soothe her. _"It nearly did. I don't understand how you-"_ she leaned up into the lips that were still resting against her skin. _"You are lucky."_

_"What it is the Americans say?"_ Pietro began. _"Should've, would've, could've."_ Ultimately he made his own decisions, if he hadn't wanted to leave Wanda with the machine on her own then he wouldn't have, it was relatively quite simple. _"It's not as though you forced me to leave you with the machine alone."_ Besides he could have let the Hawk died and had they still been aligned with Ultron then he would have and the worrying thing? He may not have felt bad about it.

Pietro's lips curled into an all too familiar smirk which would have been felt against Wanda's temple _"Luck is on my side it would seem."_

Wanda breathed out slowly, her breath puffing over the hollow of his throat. She wondered if he should be holding her as tightly as he was considering he was injured and a part of her thought that perhaps he was holding onto her so tightly was because perhaps he, too, was afraid that if he let her go this would no longer be real. She found that hard, sometimes, ever since her powers were awakened, to tell what was real and what wasn't. 

She lifted a hand and cupped Pietro's cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin like she was trying to remind herself that he was there. That he was right there with her and alive. _"Luck does not bring the dead back to life,"_ she reminded him. _"Is this one more thing that we owe to the Shield?"_

There was a chance that Pietro, like Wanda, did not want to let go of this particular moment in case it was a dream, sometimes it was hard to tell. He knew Wanda worried about what was or wasn't real, but no matter the situation Pietro could always pull Wanda back into reality and out of her head. She got lost in it more now than when she had just been a normal angry young girl who had lost her parents because of somebody else's war and a missile with the name 'Stark' plastered across it.

He turned into the touch to his cheek, eyes sliding half shut at the familiar reassuring touch, it was one of the only times he tended to be still these days. _"I do not think Shield has anything to do with my return,"_ Pietro shared with a shake of his head. _"I remember your voice calling my name in the darkness, sister."_

Wanda let her touch carefully move from his cheek to the hollow of his throat until eventually her hand was resting gently above his heart. The fabric of the hospital gown he had been put in was soft underneath her palm, but below that she could feel the uneven ridges of the bandages that had been stuck to his chest, keeping the damage from the bullet wounds from becoming infected or damaged. It was strange to her that after everything they have lived through, the concern of S.H.I.E.L.D was that an infection would be what held her brother back from truly healing. 

As much as she knew, she _knew_ beyond all shadow of a doubt, that she had called for him, desperate for him to return to her, it scared her somewhat to think that perhaps she had had a hand in bringing him back from the darkness. He had gone, she felt him die, she had felt the life leave his body at that moment. To think that she could have - truly - had a hand in bringing him back... That level of power was frightening for her. 

_"Perhaps,"_ she countered softly, not quite knowing how to take the suggestion that she had pulled him back, _"it was just not your time to leave me yet."_ Her throat tightened as she thought back to that moment she felt him die, the instant her heart shattered in her chest. 

Pietro's hand left Wanda's arm and covered the hand now pressed against his chest, a slight squeeze reaffirming that he was right there with her. _"Perhaps,"_ he agreed before he merely tightened his arms around her to draw her closer and press a comforting kiss to her hair. _"It's okay, Wanda. I'm here, I've already left you once and I will not be so stupid as to do it again._ He didn't think words would be enough to set her mind at ease or soothe the ragged emotions he could feel pouring off her in waves.

Actions often spoke louder than words and Pietro knew that well.

_"Close your eyes and rest, I will be here when you wake."_

_"Do not make promises you cannot guarantee to keep, brother,"_ Wanda chided him softly, turning her face into Pietro's neck as she gently held him, her arm across his chest finally as she hugged him back, that reassuring presence around her. Her touch was still ginger and hesitant, she was conscious she didn't want to hurt him. 

She pressed a kiss to his neck. _"You too, Pietro,_ " she breathed, _"You need to rest to heal."_

Pietro had his mouth open to answer Wanda's comment but then thought better of it, closing it a moment later and settling instead for shifting so that Wanda would be more comfortable and he'd be able to hold her close even if he were to fall asleep. _"I will,"_ he promised quietly as he turned into the kiss pressed against his neck. _"You first though."_

Truth was he never fell asleep first, he always waited to make sure Wanda got off safely and then he'd follow her.

It was the one time Pietro did follow her, into sleep. Wanda felt so tired having not slept properly since she and her brother had first been separated by Strucker. He wasn't as warm underneath her cheek as he usually was, but that was a consequence of healing, she supposed. Knowing that this was not a fight she could win, she just closed her eyes again and breathed in slowly and deeply, trying to force her body to a state where she could fall asleep. 

Surprisingly, sleep fell around her like a thick, warm blanket a lot more quickly than she had anticipated and she drifted away in Pietro's arms.


End file.
